


Alone/With You

by softouches



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, but can be not canon complaint if you want, i'm very sorry for this it's short and stupid, kinda canon complaint, like any other fluff i write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26484394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softouches/pseuds/softouches
Summary: “What,” Chan practically meowls in reply, still bewitched by the caressing touches. Felix looks at the lock on his fingers attentively. It glimmers under lighting again, and now Felix can differentiate the colour for sure. It’s not blonde. “Is it grey hair?”
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Comments: 10
Kudos: 167





	Alone/With You

**Author's Note:**

> felix's live. that all i will say.

There was something comforting about the silence. Especially when it fills your ears after days and days of loudness and undying energy.

Felix loved those moments. The dorm felt oddly empty, yet the room submerged in silence and soft sounds of typing against the keyboard made it somehow satisfying.

“I can’t believe you’re working during the vacation,” Felix mutters as he looks at Chan who is sitting on the couch with a laptop on his knees, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed.

“Strange, Lix, I thought you know me the best,” he replies, letting a small smile slide through his lips.

“At least talk to me!” Felix exclaims with the a deep pout on his lips, which makes Chan laugh as he picks out from the screen. “My boyfriend loves his work more than me,” he continues dramatically. “Shall we divorce?”

Deep inside Felix knows that there is no such word as work in Chan’s dictionary, as the boy just does what he loves the most and what brings him joy and happiness. And, in fact, Felix rarely gets offended by his boyfriend’s overproductiveness and abiding determination, it’s actually something that attracts him even more.

Yet Felix is a tease, so is Chan.

“You’re stupid,” Chan mumbles with a gentle grin. Felix just shrugs and as mischievous smirk appears on his lips, climbs on the couch to settle himself behind the boy. “And what are you doing now?”

Felix looks carefully at Chan’s soft locks before threading his fingers gently through it. “Trying to occupy my hands so I won’t bother you,” he replies, caressing the back of his head and winding his hair around his small fingers.

Chan lets out almost purring noises, leaning his head back into the touch. “It’s nice,” he whispers and Felix sees as he shuts his eyes close, laptop on his knees long forgotten.

The boy just hums, afraid to interrupt the endearing atmospheres and continues to thread the hair through his fingers. It doesn’t feel soft on his skin, as some parts of hair are damaged by multiple times of bleaching and dying, but the colour seems more natural now, of hazelnut and soft chocolate.

Unless something glimmers under the yellowish lights of the lamp. “Wait,” Felix huffs, trying to get the needed lock back.

“What,” Chan practically meowls in reply, still bewitched by the caressing touches.

Felix looks at the lock on his fingers attentively. It glimmers under lighting again, and now Felix can differentiate the colour for sure. It’s not blonde. “Is it grey hair?”

Chan’s whole posture tenses suddenly as he jabs from his place. “No, no, no,” he whines and turns around, face full of terror and shock which makes the situation even more comical. “Let me look,” he pleas, taking one of Felix’s hands in his.

“And here he is, more interested in his grey hairs than me,” Felix chuckles, intertwining their fingers. But Chan is dead serious, getting even paler than he is with small drops of sweat appearing on his forehead. “How do you even plan on looking at it?”

“You can give me a mirror or take a photo.”

Felix groans. “Chris, it’s not that bad.” He climbs up closer to him, trying to take both of Chan’s hands.

“No it is! I’m old.” He hides his face, letting out strangled noises covered by his palms.

“What?” Felix looks at him with utter disbelief in his eyes. “You can’t be serious now. Chris, you’re only twenty-three.”

“I’m _already_ twenty-three.” Chan’s voice cracks and Felix thinks he will break down in tears at any moment. “And a hair? Yesterday I ran from the convenience store to the dorms and thought my heart will break my ribcage.” He looks back at the boy through his fingers, and Felix’s heart clenches from how stupidly endearing this is. “Lix, it’s the end.”

Felix tries to contain his laughter, but quickly gives up and his loud guffaws echoes through the premises. “You’re being ridiculous now,” he takes both of Chan’s wrists and uncovers his face, fingers rubbing soothing circles into his skin.

Chan gulp, eyes still full of absolute fear and confusion. “What if I’m living a useless life.”

“Chris.”

“Am I enough?”

“Chris.”

“I’m turning twenty-five in two years it’s half of fifty,” he tries to free his wrists but Felix tightens the grip, locking his both hands together.

“For fuck’s sake, listen to me,” he tries to say it in serious way, but makes out series of giggles as he looks at Chan’s utterly devastated face. “It’s fine, everyone has grey hairs.”

“Not at twenty-three,” he gushes, breathing in and out heavily.

“Half of the industry has grey hair,” Felix notes. “And look at witcher. He’s fine as fuck.”

Felix considers it’s a win as Chan’s mouth twists in a half smile as he answers. “Is he your type?” He coos, arching an eyebrow.

“I date you of course he’s my type, duh.” Felix rolls his eyes and the room fills with pleasant noises of sincere laughter. “C’me here,” he murmurs, pulling Chan as he falls with his back on him as Felix embraces the boy into a tight hug.

Chan feels heavy on his arms, yet the heaviness is nice, it makes Felix feel less empty, and hollow, makes it all feel more real and physical, like puzzles pieces are finally placed where they are needed to be.

It was always like that with Chan. Felix felt like he’s in the needed place at the most needed time.

But now Chan stays suspiciously still and quiet.

“Chris?” Felix leans in over his shoulder, trying to look at his face. Chan’s face is blank.

“Can't you see that I’m having a mid-life crisis,” he replies with a dead serious tone.

“I only see you’re being and idiot,” Felix says, nuzzling into Chan’s hair. It smells like that cheep shampoo that he uses, fragrance of bitter soap combined with a sandal wood. It used to make Felix’s heart beat violently before, but now it’s way to familiar and soothing to disturb his inner peace. “And, grey hair is hot anyways,” he shrugs.

Chan giggles, turning around and placing his arms on Felix’s knees. It’s something between comfort and excitement, even breathing but slightly rushed heartbeat.

“Is it?” Chan asks and it’s more than enough for Felix to lean in.

It’s strange with kisses. The longer you are together, the less butterflies and fireworks you feel within the time, the thought that was too terrifying for Felix not that long ago. Yet, when he places his lips on Chan’s it’s the same familiar tingling, like a chilly wind on a warm day. Felix moves his lips softly, almost carefully, but it’s needed, like a breath of fresh air, like the sun coming out after days of dullness.

It’s their own haven and Felix feels safe there.

They pull away slowly, but their faces still stay close, Felix feeling the warm breath on his lips as he smiles. “I promise I will still like you with your grey hairs, you grumpy old man,” he mutters as quiet as he can, the moment being far to enchanting. Chan’s lips are full and glossy, and Felix is far too in love.

“You’re such a romantic,” Chan laughs, leaning in even more and traces his nose along the younger’s boy cheek, peppering small kisses on his way.

It’s not fireworks, or butterflies, but Felix feels safe. Felix feels loved, like every little cell of his body is made of it, and it’s all his. “I was taught by the best,” he replies, clutching on Chan’s arms and embracing him into a hug once again. “We can always dye it, you know?”

“Yeah?” Chan’s voice vibrates through Felix’s body as it gets completely muffled.

“Of course,” Felix laughs, caressing Chan’s hair tenderly. “We have a bit of black dye, so we can do it now, if you want?”

Chan hums in confirmation, now practically hanging on Felix like a koala. “Yeah, just give me a few minutes,” he says, wrapping his arms around Felix tighter. “Or hours,” _even tighter._ “Or days.”

Going back to his thoughts that night, Felix realises that it’s not silence that is comforting. It’s the way his whole being is engulfed by a constant presence of familiar voice, breath, and touch. And that’s what makes him feel complete.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt was lef in my cc long time ago: person a is playing with person b hair and finds a grey hair. Person b experiences middle-life crisis.
> 
> [you can yell at me on twt](https://twitter.com/softouchan)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/softouchan)
> 
> thank you for reading pls stream back door for good life


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